


Faux Jim

by Janice_Lester



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-05
Updated: 2011-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-27 18:40:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/665194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janice_Lester/pseuds/Janice_Lester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why does Bones have a sex doll that looks <i>awfully</i> like Jim?  Inquiring minds want to know...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faux Jim

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Flora (florahart)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/florahart/gifts).



> [](http://florahart.livejournal.com/profile)[florahart](http://florahart.livejournal.com/) wanted McCoy/blow-up doll with a happy ending, and I got carried away, as usual, and ignored significant portions of this prompt. Prompt thread [is here](http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink_meme/11451.html?thread=10927547). Beta'd by [](http://nix-this.livejournal.com/profile)[nix_this](http://nix-this.livejournal.com/).

 

Jim’s pretty sure this means something. Aside from proving that Bones does have, you know, a libido, even though he’s strenuously resisted all Jim’s altruistic efforts to get him laid over the years. Because you don’t buy yourself a lifelike sex doll with lifelike orifices and a larger-than-lifelike, vibration-capable penis as mere decoration, right? Or if you do, you don’t use it to decorate the part of your closet concealed beneath the enormous old greatcoat you insist on hanging on to just in case your awesome captain ever decrees that There Shall Be Shore-Leave on some chilly planet or other.

No, the general presence and specific appearance of this sex doll tells Jim something else entirely.

He crows to himself, complete with fist pump. He _knew_ Bones was looking that one time in the showers at the academy gym. Because it looks like him. Same hair color and style. Blue eyes. Smooth chest, toned but not ridiculously muscular. Totally lickable happy trail. Fantastic fucking legs. Lips just waiting for you to get out your—

“Jim? What in the _hell_ do you think you’re doing in here?”

Jim smirks. He and his sex-doll clone turn towards their visitor. “Admiring your fucktoy, Bones. Was it hard to find one so reminiscent of my awesomeness?” He runs a hand down his clone’s body in order to highlight the most salient features of awesome. The synthetic skin feels remarkably natural.

Bones rolls his eyes and attempts to remove the doll from Jim, who is holding it up with an arm around its waist so he can be sure they are much the same height. Jim doesn’t let go. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Bones growls.

Jim snorts. “You are so full of shit, Bonesy. You got this so you can better imagine hooking up with _me_.” If he puffs out his chest a little at this point, he thinks he can be forgiven.

“Such a fucking egotist.”

“You denying it? ‘Cause I gotta tell you, the Academy t-shirt I just took off it was totally mine. Had my name tag in the back and all. And it _smells_ like me, like you’ve been ‘borrowing’ my deodorant or something.”

He makes the mistake of pausing in their tug-of-war to sniff the fake-Jim’s pits as loudly and obnoxiously as possible, and, unsurprisingly, this lets Bones finally succeed in wrestling Jim’s simulacrum away from him. He shoves it back in the closet and slams the door before rounding on Jim.

“Get out.”

The words are growly, but it’s not the Growl of Imminent Captainly Demise, so Jim decides he’d much rather throw himself on the bed and look totally sexy and available. Then he decides Bones might not pick up on this hint, so he looks coyly up at him and says, “Bones, I am so totally sexy and available right now. Why don’t you try fucking the real thing?”

Bones goes very still, like some small woodland animal caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle.

Jim grins. “And maybe later, we can have a threesome with faux-Jim there. I’ve always wanted to suck my own dick.”

If Bones turns any pinker, Jim may have to get his bomb disposal guys in here. He seems to have forgotten how to talk, possibly his whole language centre’s shut down in shock at having what he’s longed for all spread out before him. Understandable, really. Jim decides the best way of applying further gentle encouragement is to unzip his pants and get out his cock for some slow, leisurely stroking action. Bones is transfixed, of course. Anyone would be.

Then Bones stalks closer, so he can loom down over Jim. His nostrils flare. It’s kinda hot. “The only way I’d consider having sex with you, kid,” Bones drawls, “is if I had some way of knowing you’d be as _quiet_ and _obedient_ as plastic Jimmy there in the closet. You up for that?”

Bones is trying to scare him, Jim can tell. It's the eyes, Bones has crazy eyes. And maybe the finger poking a bruise into his chest is coming off a little on the aggressive side, but Jim's got way better things to poke to bother being intimidated. So he beams. “Oh, fuck, yes.”

“Un _believe_ able,” Bones says. He follows it up with a long minute staring at Jim, looking so cute and befuddled he almost feels bad about stroking off so shamelessly. Almost. But then, at last, the Bonester pounces. Jim makes a special effort to lie there, passive, like a sex doll. Which is kinda awesome, in its way. It appeals to the part of him that likes to sleep late on his rare days off, have his yeoman bring him breakfast in bed.

Jim’s good and quiet long enough for Bones to get them both naked, helpfully raising limbs as required to assist the undressing efforts and not even groaning _that_ loudly when his boxers chafe their way down his dick, one fibre at a time. Bones’s hands wander, like, a lot, and he kisses like Jim’s mouth is his personal property and he wants to paint his name in every corner. Jim’s performance as an inanimate sex toy probably isn’t going to win any acting awards, but when Bones starts to rub their cocks together a man would _have_ to be inanimate not to grab himself some of that ass and grind upwards. And when Bones _moans_? Well, Jim's met some inanimate objects that might have had trouble holding still at that point. Just saying.

Jim loves a good frot, could do it all day. You know, if his dick didn’t have other ideas. Like coming exuberantly all over Bones at the first opportunity. It's intense, brain-melting, complete-lethargy-bringing, and completely fucking perfect, man. Then Bones grunts and starts coming, lowers his head to muffle whatever no-doubt uncomplimentary words he has against Jim’s neck. Jim’s dick gives a sated little twitch, and he smiles. This is definitely the best sex he’s had all week, man. Possibly all _month_. He’s starting to be a bit jealous of Bones’s sex doll. Though maybe not so much, since Bones's idea of enjoying the afterglow is apparently to wrench away abruptly and start pulling on his pants.

“It’s a gag gift, asshole,” Bones says, already shrugging into his shirt while Jim’s still sprawling lazily (though artfully) on the bed. “Bought it when we stopped over on Risa. For you, next time I feel like telling you to go fuck yourself.”

Jim is rendered speechless for approximately thirty-five seconds.

Then he leaps up, cries “Boooooones!”, and tackles his friend back down onto the bed. He's got one hand down Bones's pants and the other working on exposing the good doctor's own lickable treasure trail in less than five. He's not opposed, per se, to fucking himself (if that's what Bones is into, he can totally put on a show), but he definitely thinks the Bones-plus-just-the-one-Jim arrangement has potential, and this time, they’re going to do it right.

***END***

  



End file.
